A Grain of Sand
by Kara Ashford
Summary: To see a world in a grain of sand... and a heaven in a wildflower. The story of two people who seek to defy their destiny and finally find redemption. Summary subject to revision
1. Prologue

**Title**: To See a World in a Grain of Sand

**Author**: Isabella Night

**Status**: Incomplete

**Genre**: Romance/Action/Adventure

**Word** **Count**: 2,452

**Rating**: M

**Disclaimer**: Aladdin and all respective characters are not mine. They all belong to Disney, and I promise to return them once I've finished playing with them.

**Summary**: In the face of an enemy who would destroy them all, Aladdin and his friends must turn to their sworn enemy to save the Seven Deserts. (Summary subject to revision)

**Date Completed: **14/11/10

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**PROLOGUE**

**SAND IN THE HOURGLASS**

**-~X~-**

_The hollow cavern was dark, and moist. The small flickering lamps that lined the walls did little to stave off the darkness or the frigid chill that permeated the air. They flickered weakly, dying slowly. The prisoners lay chained against the walls, row after row of men with thick iron shackles, dirty, thin and poorly cared for. _

_There were children, and young women amidst the masses, huddled together where they had been secluded from their families and loved ones by heavy iron bars. Their bonds were looser, less constricting and they appeared better fed._

_Their purpose, after all, lay in a task which required their physical appearance to be somewhat maintained. _

_All watched with heavy hearts as their only source of comfort within their confinement began to retreat and die. The lamps, hung just out of their reach, slowly burned away the last of their oil and wick. There was a shuddering breath shared by all as they anticipated the darkness to come. In this place of nightmares and horror, it was not the darkness they feared, but what lay in wait at the edges of the shadows._

_A child whimpered and tried to bury himself closer into his mother's embrace. She held the child, but not tightly, her fear of the monstrosities just beyond the safety of the light a hundred times more powerful than her love for the child she had never wanted, the child her imprisonment had forced upon her. She would throw the boy to the darkness if it would spare her own life for a few moments longer and feel no regret. In this place there was no room for anything but self-preservation. _

_Suddenly the lamps burst into furious infernos, roaring brightly and casting their light throughout the cavern, illuminating the space and reflecting off the cold sand beneath their feet. The prisoners groaned pitifully and covered their eyes, too accustomed to the darkness of their prison to adjust to this terrible brightness so quickly. _

_Something shrieked in the distant shadows, like an angry jackal, and the roar of its displeasure rang through the chamber, making the blood freeze within the vein._

"_How much longer?" A voice hissed from the darkness._

_The child turned his head in his mother's embrace, his curiosity outweighing his fear. The rest were older, wiser, they knew better than to risk stealing a glance for fear of the consequences. Their captors were not known for their mercy._

_He was fortunate. Two men emerged from the shadows, each focusing intently on the round dais in the centre of the room, ignoring the captives altogether. More torches burst to light as they approached; ignoring the angry howls in the distance though it made the captives shake with fear._

"_How long must we continue this torturous inaction? I detest hiding in this way, like a weak, little coward." The first of the two men spoke, taller than his companion by inches, his voice a lash in the silence._

"_Calm yourself," the second spoke with only mild irritation, too used to his companions outbursts for them to affect him so quickly, and ushered for them to take a seat. "There is still much to be done, more to prepare. We shall not emerge until the time is right. Mistakes cannot be afforded or our deception will have been for nothing." Chairs appeared from the sands, elegant, comfortable and completely out of place with the atmosphere of the dungeon though neither man seemed to take notice. The shorter man sat, his body completely concealed beneath the long, rich cloak and hood which hid his face, his companion in similar dress. _

_The taller one refused to sit quietly and began to pace angrily around the platform, muttering curses. He approached a young boy, one who was too close to his path and kicking his sides viciously. The other sat quietly, patiently allowing the tantrum to pass – the old man was simply impossible to reason with when he was this irate. _

_The man finally stopped his attack breathing heavily, his aging body protesting the use of such force and he cursed his dwindling mortality. He spat at the body at his feet and turned away without seeing the newly formed glassy expression in the boy's eyes, blood still leaking from the mouth of the corpse, and sat down._

"_The Seven Deserts could have been trembling at our feet years ago!" He snarled, his mouth twisting into an ugly sneer. "Yet you cowards insist upon this retched self-imposed exile, and for what purpose?" He continued without seeing the narrowed eyes of his companion. "Because of the ramblings of a foolish seer? The promises of a petty enchantress and a half-dead necromancer?" He stood again, knocking the chair to the floor where it faded into the sands. "I should have seen the idiocy of this endeavor years ago, and left you all to the mercy of the sands!"_

"_Enough." The younger man warned; his voice sharp and tight, with the hiss of a viper beneath his controlled tone. The old man stilled completely for a moment before slowly lowering himself back into his reformed seat, eyes downcast._

"_You would do well to keep such traitorous thoughts silent, brother!" The younger man continued harshly. "There are more in our circle who would slay you for such views than you care to recall." _

_Once again the older man said nothing, but clenched his fists tightly beneath the sleeves of his robe. The unkempt nails bit into the wrinkled skin and drew blood. _

_The young man continued. "We will wait. The seer has never misled us before-"_

"_We have never seen it _necessary_ to trust the seer before." The old man muttered bitterly. "I dislike relying on such an ambiguous prophecy. It could be a diversion, or some sort of trick."_

"_Unlikely. Seer's are forbidden to lie."_

"_No, but they can deceive."_

"Enough_, brother." The younger man stood from his chair. "Your opinion on this matters nothing. The Order has made their decision and we will not act until we are prepared. We are still too unaware of how the Seven Kingdoms have advanced or what may await us upon our return."_

_The elder scoffed, "The Seven Deserts have been without _real _magical potential since the fall of the sand witches. And any magic which remains is of no concern to us." A cruel simile spread across his weathered face, "If you insist on relying on the strength of the Order, you should try not to contradict yourself at every turn, _brother._"_

_He was unmoved. "It was not only the Seven Deserts of which I spoke, Mahir."_

_There was a moment of silence before the old man began to laugh. The prisoners shrank back against the prison walls and children huddled against their mother's breasts in fear._

"_You mean … the Land of the Black Sands?" The laughter grew louder and more terrifying. "That place has been a mere speck on the desert sands since Destane fell."_

"_At the hands of his apprentice," a sharp reminder, "we cannot afford to underestimate that boy."_

"_Destane was an old fool blinded by his own ambition to realize the danger within his own household." Mahir dismissed it off with a callous movement of his shoulders. "I will admit, the boy was talented, and no fool to be sure, brother. But he's just that: a boy. Easily dealt with; I am not, after all, as foolish as Destane."_

_The young man gave a cold glare. "You would do well to speak of our lost brother with more respect. He was of the most powerful of our breed in his youth and nearly succeeded in conquering the Seven Deserts on the strength his own power."_

"_Yes, and then he was transformed into a useless servant at the hands of a _boy _three times his junior!"_

"_And it was exactly that manner of thinking," the young man sneered, "that cost Jafar his life at the hands of a _street-rat_." _

_When the silence descended again it carried with it a heavy feeling of tension. The captives scarce drew breath as both men remained in revered stillness, remembering the fall of the great sorcerer. His serpentine emblem still carried great weight in the order, long after his demise, as a reminder to all of the man who had come within the reach of ultimate power. No other had come so far in the entire history of the Brotherhood, and he was revered even in defeat._

"_We know nothing for certain, Kader." The elder spoke carefully, aware of the delicate tension which surrounded this topic like a fog. "It may be that our sources were… misled." _

"_There was no mistake. A street-rat now resides in the palace, championed as the hero of Agrabah," a pause, "and engaged to their princess."_

_Mahir cursed. "Disgusting. Such pollution of the bloodline should never have been allowed, even for the mere common-royalty."_

_Kader nodded his agreement. "Never the less it works to our advantage. The Sultan is old and soft, and the street-rat is seen as so capable that little is being done in the way of defense for the kingdom. It will be easily concurred when the time comes." When Mahir said nothing his companion sighed. "Will nothing satisfy you, brother? We shall move soon enough, have patience. The Deserts will be ours in a matter of months if all goes well."_

_The old man shook his head. "It is not our plans which concern me at the moment but the street-rat."_

"_Just moments ago you dismissed him as you would a flea!" Kader shouted, his irritation igniting the lamps around him; they roared and sputtered boiling oil onto the prisoners below. They began to shriek and convulse in agony, drowning out all other sounds in the cave until the young sorcerer opened the sands at their feet and drowned them beneath the element with a wave of his hand. The remaining captives shifted closer, desperate for more space near the light, ignoring the slight sensation of hands clawing for the surface beneath them. It slowed and finally stopped altogether._

_Kader breathed deeply to cool his temper, such lapses in control were unacceptable, especially with their goals so close at hand. Calm at last, he gestured over the sand dais before them, the element dancing gently at the motion and lifted into the air as a temperate storm. The specks shone in the dim light before the image of a young boy appeared in the air. He was handsome with dark hair and a bright smile, walking arm in arm with a beautiful woman and laughing happily as they strolled through the palace guardians. _

"_You see, Mahir," the sorcerer smiled, "he is only one man; nothing to concern ourselves with in the long run. He is only mortal, despite his fortunate encounter with Jafar, and mortality is so terribly precarious." He gestured again and the sands fell back to the dais in a harmless shower._

_The old man frowned. "Yet he was still fortunate enough to best one of our most powerful, _twice_. We should watch this one, Kader, or risk loosing everything we have worked for, and I shall be _extremely_ unhappy if this retched existence you have forced me through all these years came to nothing."_

_Kader frowned at the subtle threat but did not comment on it. "If we are to follow through with the Seer's prediction," Mahir continued, "than I am sure you and the rest of the order have discovered the location of the necessary objects, hmm?"_

_Kader smiled wickedly, "Of course, brother." The sands stirred again, this time faster and more violently, and revealed a glittering palace with golden domes and bright flags flying. "The first lies, ironically, within the very home of our troublesome street-rat, guarded by the Sultan's family for generations." The image vanished. "I myself have been charged with retrieving the item from Agrabah's stronghold."_

"_And how, pray tell dear brother, are you to retrieve it when our Order continues to remain secreted beneath the sands?"_

_Kader grinned venomously, "I'm sure I can find a way to make myself… discrete." He pulled a knife from beneath his robes with a flourish; the handle studded with rubies and the blade viciously curved, and cut a line across his palm. He let the blood flow until it pooled in his palm and dripped onto the sand of the dais staining it a red-brown. "I give you my word, Mahir. I shall have what we seek before the next phase of the moon, and then we, my brother, shall work towards our own goals, together. The Seven Deserts will crumble at our feet."_

_The old man grinned and clasped his palm against the wound, feeling the blood stain his skin and seal the vow completely._

"_Just see to it that you don't disappoint me."_

**-~X~-**

Sadira shot awake, sitting up fast enough to make her vision swim as she fought to gulp in precious air. Her heart pounded brutally against her ribs and her stomach tightened, making her feel sick – she fought the urge to vomit, retaining enough sense of reality to know that if she was sick here, by her bed, she'd never clean it out in time to stop the sands from absorbing the smell.

She shivered beneath the warmth of her blankets as the waking world began to settle around her. Her eyes, aided by the quiet glow of the lamp by her bedside, quickly took in her small living space, dark hazel eyes frantically following the flickering shadows hoping – yet also fearing – to discover something within the shadows. Her home was well beneath the surface of Agrabah and let in little sound and blocked out all light, and at the moment the silence was deafening and the darkness threatened to devour her alive.

She fumbled with the lamp until it cast its light throughout the entirety of the chamber, reassuring her beyond a doubt, that she was alone and secure within her home. Sadira frowned at her own childish fears but could not bring herself to dim the light again, or stop the furious beating of her heart.

She had never had a dream that was as vivid and coherent as this one, yet it seemed to slip away as she fought to recall the details, like sand through her fingers. It hadn't seemed like a dream at all.

Still fighting to steady her breathing, Sadira lay down and drew the blankets tighter against her body. She spent the rest of the night staring at the edge of the shadows just beyond her bed, imagining a pair of snakish eyes glowing blood red in the black sands.

* * *

Isabella's Ramblings

_Because, yes, you really needed to know._

Wow, first story up in forever, but I'm so glad I finally have SOMETHING up after such a long hiatus. I'm going to try and update regularly from now on. At least once a week if my schedule allows (if university doesn't try to kill me again).

This is a bit of a new genre for me, but you can all thank Cantare for her beautifully done fic "Antiphony" for getting me into this (and writing) once again.

I'll update as soon as possible. As always, constructive criticism is welcome and all flames will be used to roast marshmellows.

* * *

More reviews mean a more creative writer. Until next time. ^_^


	2. Chapter 1

**Title**: A Grain of Sand

**Author**: Kara Ashford (formerly Isabella Night)

**Status**: Incomplete

**Genre**: Romance/Action/Adventure

**Word** **Count**: 7, 706

**Rating**: M

**Disclaimer**: Aladdin and all respective characters belong to Disney.

**Summary**: To see a world in a grain of sand... and a heaven in a wildflower. The story of two people who seek to defy their destiny and finally find redemption. (Summary subject to revision)

**Date Completed: **06/08/09

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**CHAPTER ONE: THE SHIFTING SANDS**

**-~X~-**

Sadira hadn't been able to get back to sleep that night. The memory of her nightmare, now barely more than a fleeting recollection, had kept her awake and alert for the presence of a mysterious enemy emerging from the dream world and into her waking reality.

She'd hidden like a child beneath her blankets for hours, her lamp ablaze in the darkness until she realized that the sun had risen.

It was ridiculous really; that she should have been so paralyzed by a dream she could barely remember the following morning. She was a grown woman, a sand witch, and she had dealt with her fair share of nightmares simply living day-to-day as a street-rat to know that dreams were the last thing in the world she needed to fear. She was regretting her childishness already. The world around her was blurry from her lack of sleep and she had nearly dried out all the oil from the lamp. It was expensive and sand witch or not she was still struggling to afford the bare necessities – luxuries like extra oil would bankrupt her.

She managed to scrape together an honest living by taking odd jobs here and there, but they never lasted long. Sadira wasn't blind or stupid. She was a street-rat; a curse born and raised as far as the wealthy people of Agrabah were concerned – and thus couldn't be trusted with anything. The constant glares she received from suspicious merchants and guards made others wary of her and kept any gainful employment securely out of her reach. Even her talents as a sand witch couldn't change that: everyone was so distrustful of magic nowadays that it was more of a hindrance than the life-changing miracle she'd first imagined it to be.

Life had always been hard living on the streets; it was still filled with its share of pitfalls with a roof over her head. She had no time or energy to spare dwelling on some production of her subconscious, however realistic or horrifying it may be.

She'd had a nightmare that was all, Sadira tried to reassure herself as she began her daily task of cleaning and organizing her hovel. She'd always had a slight fear of the dark and of the royal authorities and Jasmine had explained the story of Jafar to her a few months ago. She even remembered the day when the palace was lifted from the ground by a hulking blue phantom (Sadira still had trouble connecting the vision of that behemoth to the image of their comical Genie friend) and there was frightened talk through the streets of how an evil wizard had usurped the throne from their beloved sultan, keeping him and his daughter captive within the palace.

It was only natural that a part of that frightening memory would be incorporated into her dream. Yes, she thought, tugging a little more viciously on her bed spread than was necessary – perfectly natural. The problem of course, was the two sorcerers, and the mention of the Land of the Black Sand. She'd heard Aladdin and Jasmine discussing that too some time ago, but only once and briefly. When she'd tried to get them to elaborate, they'd been most reluctant to discuss it past a vague warning: dark, perilous, _avoid_ - and it hadn't come up again.

And the name of the sorcerer they'd mentioned – Destane – she'd never heard that name before or known of his connection to the Land of the Black Sand (if there was a connection at all) yet Sadira felt a shiver run up her spine at the mere thought of him. She'd always been able to trust her instincts and they told her, in no uncertain terms, that if this Destane was real she had best steer clear.

The sand witch shook her head again, determined to clear such thoughts from her mind. She'd never believed prophetic or psychic visions to be any more than the ramblings of poor fortune tellers, and the scrolls 'left to her' by the Witches of the Sand contained no mention of these sorts of dreams or anything remotely similar. The fact that she was even considering these options as a possibility was beyond ridiculous. She had no reason to start scaring herself silly over something as mundane as a nightmare and she refused to let it ruin the rest of her day.

Jasmine had invited her over to the palace for lunch with her and the rest of the gang. Sadira smiled, not only at the promise of free food, but at the chance to spend some well deserved time with her friends. They rarely had much free time between them these days. The increasing political and imperial duties of the soon-to-be wedded couple kept them locked away in the palace if they weren't off on another one of their adventures to save Agrabah. Sadira was still _trying_ to get by honestly (she didn't think it would be appropriate to be friends with a princess if she continued as a common thief) and, when she could, practicing her sand magic, which left little time for socializing.

Sadira grinned called for her powers to help her dust around her bed. Then, with a sharp gesture of her arms, the girl leveled the sandy floor at her feet and removed the majority from her hair and clothing (living in a desert kingdom insured that every citizen was constantly coated with a thin layer of grit) accomplishing what once would have been hours of grooming into a five second routine.

The sand witch looked around her apartment, pleased with the outcome. The former dwelling of the Sand Sisters was much larger than her old place - the ground floor of an abandoned ruin - and much more secure. She had a roof over her head for the first time in years and the entrance was safely hidden. Only she and her friends knew how to safely get inside – unless she was to count the harrowing descent she'd first discovered all those years ago. She was lucky to have survived that fall in the first place, let alone find the way in, so the possibility of others discovering it was far from troubling.

She'd managed to fit her own little kitchen, dinner table and sitting area which also doubled as her bedroom into the space and still have enough room to practice her spells and move around freely. She was quite proud of her possessions, and made a habit of trying to keep the place as organized as possible – impractical as it was when one was a witch of the sand. As a whole, her home had a decidedly cozy feeling to it, she decided. It was nothing compared with Jasmine's spacious apartments at the palace of course, but that hardly mattered to her or to the princess or to anyone else who visited.

Overall, she'd done quite well for herself – for a street-rat anyway.

Satisfied, Sadira grabbed her satchel from its place hanging by the door and slung the worn leather strap over her shoulder. She could feel by the weight that it was completely filled with sand and was comforted. She trusted Jasmine and Aladdin beyond a shred of doubt, but if anything went wrong, the palace wasn't exactly filled with sand. She would not be defenseless, especially not after that dream.

Sadira shook her head again, mentally berating herself for being so paranoid, but did not replace the bag.

A voice from behind stalled her exit, "So, you goin' out again, little miss sand witch?" Sadira turned to the desk, still pilled high with scrolls in a chaotic heap, and gave a sardonic grin to the disapproving sand worm perched on the wooden surface.

"Yes in fact I am." She said, moving towards the desk and kneeling to be at eye level with the creature. She tried to be polite, "What? Is there a problem?"

"Oh _no_," the worm continued, false sincerity ringing in its voice and Sadira felt the grin die on her face, "_nothing's_ the matter. And even if there were, YOU certainly wouldn't know about it; always scampering off to the surface to go shopping or some other ridiculous reason. In the old days, those hags would never have abandoned their place, not even for a moment! You kids these days, really!"

Sadira sighed and had to stop herself from rolling her eyes. They had this same conversation every time she had to leave the cavern and yet she simply could not get the worms to understand how things had changed. She supposed it was like having an overbearing mother – multiple overbearing mothers.

Today was going to involve one of _those_ conversations, Sadira could feel it; she also didn't have time for it, she was going to be late as it was and hated keeping the gang waiting. The sand witch pinned the worm with a stern look. "Look, I don't have time to explain why I can't stay down here every minute of every day, and I'm not going to argue with you. I'm going to meet my friends for lunch, so watch the place until I get back, got it?"

With that, she stood and strode out the door ignoring the worm as it continued to shout after her, even after she was too far down the tunnels to hear.

**-~X~-**

Sadira reached the palace within half an hour. The bright sun and the bustling marketplace packed with the energetic shoppers helped to wake her up some more and brightened her mood considerably as she walked the streets towards the gates. She waved to the two guards on duty, ignoring the sneers that crossed their faces as they allowed her entrance through the massive bronze gates. The fact that she, a street-rat and a common criminal, was allowed to access the house of their sultan was still regarded with palpable distaste by the nobility and garrisons alike, despite the engagement between their only princess and the city's greatest champion - another street-rat. She could only imagine how they thought of Aladdin being their future ruler.

It didn't seem to matter that he continually risked his life for Agrabah and its people, defending them from horrifying monsters and villains. He was born a street-rat, an inferior, and there would always be those who would continue to see him that way for the rest of his life. It made Sadira wonder if **she** would always be seen the same way – to be born a street-rat, and to die a street-rat with only the fleas to mourn her.

She swiftly derailed that train of thought. She was here to enjoy some well deserved time with her friends and no morbid thoughts or cryptic nightmares were going to get in the way. Jasmine and Aladdin were most likely waiting for her in the gardens so she set off in that direction.

The palace was always most beautiful around midday, when the sun struck the golden domes and basked the grounds in a soft radiance that made everything seem as though it was made of the finest spun gold. Even the gardens, always impeccably groomed and lavish with exotic flowers seemed to have strings of gold woven through the flowers and towering trees and bushes adding to the natural beauty of the private oasis. Sadira remembered (not without a sting of guilt) when her sand spell had reordered the fabric of history - and she'd woken up in the lavish silks of the princess's bed instead of her thin bundle of rags - that the grandest thing she had seen was the verdant oasis just below her (Jasmine's) balcony. Not even the fine silks or glowing gems at her fingertips had captivated her so completely. She'd idled in the gardens, wondering at the sight of a forest within the heart of Agrabah when she'd never seen a real, fully bloomed tree before in her life, and it remained Sadira's favorite part of the royal dwellings.

The witch resisted the impulse to wander off the pathway and take in all the sights and smells the gardens had to offer or else she'd never make it to lunch at all. She could hear the familiar sounds of Iago's indigent squawking and Genie's bursts of magic just around the corner and made to quicken her pace when she felt a pair of large hands incase her arm in an iron grip, stopping her cold in her tracks before yanking her back. Sadira turned to find herself staring at the angry face of Razoul, head of the palace guards.

"What do you think you're doing here, street-rat?" Razoul questioned sharply, his hand did not leave her arm.

Sadira sighed and fought the urge to roll her eyes – experience dealing with the short-tempered man had taught her better, "Princess Jasmine _invited_ me. I'm her guest, _remember_?" She was sure he did. Jasmine must have let the guards know about her arrival or she'd never have made it through the front gates. Razoul was, in all likelihood, just giving her trouble for the sake of it – his men might quietly disapprove of her presence, but Razoul was notoriously vocal in his objections toward Sadira and Aladdin as contaminators of the palace.

The captain scoffed, "A likely story." He poked his finger against her collarbone, hard, his tone accusing. "Perhaps you'd like me to believe that you're here to inspect the gardens or the royal treasury or perhaps the _fruit_?"

The sand witch glared at him in return. Obviously, he was still a little sore about that little 'fruit-inspector' trick she'd played on him a while back, when she'd first met Aladdin, and it certainly wasn't the first time she'd managed to worm her way out from beneath his nose. However threatening her was crossing the line. She'd been nothing less than an exemplary, law-abiding citizen ever since she'd discovered the ancient ways of the Sand Witches. (As far as she was aware there were no laws against summoning sand beasts, tampering with the sands of time, or hypnotizing someone into thinking that they were a dragon slayer.)

If anyone should have been angry it was her. He'd made her life a living hell whenever she'd been chased into a corner by him and his subordinates for years, and she wouldn't soon forget that.

"Look here, Razoul," Sadira began, her irritation seeping heavily into her voice, jabbing her finger against his chest in retaliation, "Everyone's waiting for me," She gestured angrily to an area just out of sight down the pathway where she'd heard their voices moments ago, "and I'm already late as it is. Now, let me go already?"

"You'd best remember your place, street rat!"

"Or _what_? You'll poke me again?"

Razoul scoffed, his grip on her arm beginning to bruise as he held it above her head. "Why you little…!"

"RAZOUL!" Sadira toppled to the ground in an ungraceful heap when the burly guard released her, straightening and stammering an awkward explanation as Princess Jasmine stormed angrily towards him. It had never failed to amaze Sadira how the petite princess could appear as soft and delicate as a rose, and yet possess the commanding and intimidating presence of a tigress whenever she was incensed.

She picked herself off the ground, brushing the dust from her clothes as the princess furiously berated Razoul watching him stutter and squirm for an explanation out of the corner of her eye, and utterly failing to conceal the self-righteous grin on her face; it served him right for attacking her like that. She grinned at his retreating form over her shoulder. He saw and glared heatedly at her as he stormed off; like the rat he accused her of being, Sadira's instincts – no longer hampered by her quick temper - told her that, for future reference, it was better not to antagonize a man who could break her in two with one hand. The arm Razoul had been holding was still red and stung a little, even without his fierce grip and she was reminded again why she always feared for her life whenever he patrolled the streets.

She kept her eyes securely on the captain's retreating figure until she felt Jasmine's hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright?" The princess inquired, concern written on her face.

Sadira smiled and waved the concern away, "I'm fine. Don't worry about it. That big ape isn't as tough as he looks."

"There you are, _finally_," The ever sardonic Iago flew over and perched on her shoulder, voicing his opinion without a care for the disapproving glare the princess was giving him. "Let's go already, I have better things to do then hang around here with the jinni while little Miss Sand Witch decides to chat with Razoul. I'm starving over here!"

"Iago!" Jasmine scolded.

The parrot shrugged, clearly unconcerned. "What? Look at her, she's fine; we can call off the search and rescue already." Sadira discreetly rubbed the sore spot on her arm behind her back, "Now can we please move on to more important matters? Like eating! Which we _would _have been doing if _this one_" – he jabbed a feather at Sadira's cheek – "hadn't decided to take the scenic route and make us all wait!"

Sadira shoved him off her shoulder, removing the brass ring to fix her ringlet. "Sorry about that, guys. I kinda just lost track of the time and… Sorry."

"You should be!" Iago squawked, "Why I never – AGH!" He screamed suddenly as he was trapped, unceremoniously inside a silver cooking pot, the lid closing shut with a snap.

Genie, complete in a large white hat and apron, appeared in front of the girls, grabbed the pot and began to spin and shake it with a squawking Iago inside; a huge grin plastered on his face the entire time.

"Oh, now don't you listen to him," he dismissed her apologies with a wave of his hand, "besides, you gave me more time to work on my soufflé!" A 'ding' sounded and the jinni opened the lid to reveal a tasty looking pastry Iago's feathered tail stuck out decoratively out from the centre and twitched from side to side as the bird fought to free himself. Genie gave a sheepish 'oops' and yanked him out by the feathers. Iago burst out coughing up pastry and glaring murderously at the despairing jinni.

"Aww, now look what you did!" Genie wailed dramatically, staring at the gaping hole in the middle of the pan. "You've ruined dessert." Iago growled and flung a hand-full of cake in the jinni's face. He was promptly shoved head-first back into the soufflé.

Jasmine and Sadira fought to hide their giggles. "Come on," Jasmine took her arm and began leading her into the palace, "let's go get some lunch."

Sadira nodded enthusiastically and followed. She couldn't help but notice, however, that part of the group was missing; a very significant and awkward part. The sand witch fumbled to think of a way to ask the princess where her fiancée was without sounding like she was _at all_ interested. She failed, epically.

Once again, however, Jasmine surprised her. "It's just going to be the four of us this time. Aladdin, Carpet and Abu are away in Getsistan so they won't be able to make it." There was no suspicion, no hidden question hanging in her words, only genuine disappointment that the whole gang couldn't be together.

"Oh," Sadira tried to sound casual. "I thought you guys didn't have anything planned this week."

"We didn't, until Sultan Pasta Al'Dente decided to host a gathering for all of Agrabah's allies at the last minute." The princess explained; her tone was long suffering, "Agrabah needed a representative and my father decided it was 'time for Aladdin to try his hand at politics independently'." Sadira winced slightly - independently; that meant no sultan, no princess, and no genie; just Aladdin surrounded by men who were of higher birth and rank and who would use his lowly heritage against him if they could. It was both a test and a taste of what was to come when he took the throne of Agrabah.

Sadira tugged on her ringlet, "I'm… sure he'll be fine," she began a little awkwardly, "I mean… this'll be good for him and all and… well he _is_ going to be the sultan someday and…"

"He could use the experience." Jasmine finished, "When it comes to monsters and villains, Aladdin's second to none. But diplomacy…"

"Not his strong point?"

Jasmine groaned, "It's like watching elephants waltz." Both women shook their heads and burst into fits of laugher.

Jasmine smiled pleasantly then and tugged Sadira into the dinning room. The sight of the open and luxurious area made Sadira smile brightly and the two girls made themselves comfortable as Iago and Genie followed (loudly) behind them.

At the sight of the banquet laid before him, Iago quickly forgot his quarrel with the jinni and swooped down like a hawk on a bowl of fruits. "Now this is more like it!" He grinned and shoved a pomegranate in his mouth.

**-~X~-**

The sun was just beginning to set beneath the golden dunes of sand when Jasmine and Sadira settled themselves comfortably into the princess's suite. The sight of all the expensive silks and ornaments made the street-rat painfully aware of her worn and patched garments, but then Genie – dressed in a frilly pink costume, a blonde wig and looking disturbingly feminine - handed her a warm cup of something he called 'Earl Grey tea' and she relaxed again. The drink was quite good and soothed her nerves wonderfully; she'd have to ask Genie for some more to take back to the witches' lair later.

They talked and laughed with ease while Genie served cookies and fruit and Iago complained loudly that they were making too much noise. The previous night, however, had still taken its toll on her. She hadn't been able to stop yawning during lunch, and even the stimulating effects of the tea – something Genie called 'caffeine' - couldn't prevent the drooping of her eyes.

Iago landed beside her with a frown after she yawned for the fiftieth time that evening. "Oh I'm sorry," he asked, sarcasm dripping from every word, "are we keeping you up?"

Jasmine swatted at him with a scowl, "Iago don't be rude."

"No, he's right." Sadira rubbed her eyes. "I… didn't get much sleep last night; nightmares." She felt childish just mentioning it.

"I'm not surprised," Genie commented, "I mean, sleeping all alone in the former lair of the Witches of the Sand!" He shuddered, "It's a wonder you sleep at all."

Sadira shook her head, "No, it wasn't about the Witches," she'd had nightmares concerning them before and they hadn't scared her nearly as bad, "honestly, I can hardly remember it. It just… felt so real, like I was standing there watching everything happen and… it didn't… **feel** like I was dreaming. I've never had a dream like that before." She stopped suddenly; realizing the attention of the room was focused exclusively on her and blushed, tugging on her ringlets nervously. "It just freaked me out a little, that's all." She waved it off and hoped that would be the end of it – she was sure rambling on like that was some kind of horrible social 'faux-pas', as Genie called it, in high society.

Iago rolled his eyes, "Oh how _horrible_ for you." Sadira glared at him and the bird wisely stayed well out of her reach.

"Hey, it _was_!" She insisted and stuck her tongue out at him childishly. At the inquisitive faces of her friends, the sand witch sighed and relented. Maybe if she told them about it, they could reassure her of how ridiculous it really was and move on. "Okay, I was in this… cave I guess… it was underground. There were people, prisoners, chained to a wall, lots of them. Then these two guys come in, sorcerers I think, and they started talking about some sort of plan to take over the seven deserts. They talked a bit about you and Aladdin," she paused, "and Jafar."

Predictably, Jasmine paled a little, but said nothing, so Sadira continued. "After that they started talking about the Land of the Black Sand and whoever it is that runs it. Then they mentioned needing something from the palace and… then I woke up."

Iago rolled his eyes, "That's it?!" He groaned and snatched a cookie from Sadira's plate, "And here I thought it was something important." Genie snapped his fingers and the cookie – as well as the table Iago had been standing on – disappeared. The parrot plummeted to the floor with a yelp.

"Did the witches ever have dreams like that?" Jasmine asked, taking another sip from her tea. "If it scared you badly enough to keep you up" – Sadira flinched, feeling twice as pathetic – "then it could be serious."

Sadira shook her head, "I checked that. If they did have 'visions' or whatever, they didn't write about it in any of the scrolls and I haven't found any spells that can do anything like that either. It was probably just a dream, really." Jasmine nodded, but didn't look entirely convinced. Sadira had heard about the 'prophetic' dream Jasmine had received from the Ethereal before it had almost destroyed Agrabah on a whim; the princess had lived through enough threats against her kingdom to know that nothing was ever 'just a dream' or 'just a coincidence'. The rigid form of her spine spoke volumes about her long-standing fear and hatred of the dead vizier and Sadira felt twice as horrible for even mentioning his name.

Genie 'poofed', and was suddenly dressed in a white suit and beard, "Ve must look at zis scientifically!" He said in a strange accent. There was another poof and there were suddenly a dozen wires stuck to the Sadira's head attached to a large, beeping machine – the sand witch nearly spilled her tea in surprise. The machine spit out a pile of paper and disappeared. The jinni scanned through it quickly before 'poofing' it away with a clueless shrug. "Everything looks normal to me," he hovered over to Sadira, but his gaze flickered briefly over to Jasmine, implying that the main reason for his theatrics had been more for the princess's benefit than the street-rat's, "_maaaaybe_ you just had one too many falafel sundaes before bedtime. That always does it for me."

Sadira laughed and that seemed to calm everyone down. Jasmine visibly relaxed again and the sand witch exhaled briefly in relief. She wished she hadn't brought it up in the first place, but Genie's easy comment made her feel more confident of her earlier assumption: it was just a nightmare – not that she'd needed convincing of that in the first place.

She yawned again and stood up, "Speaking of bedtime, I need to head back," she stretched to emphasize her point. It was getting late and she needed to get a good night's sleep to make up for last night.

Jasmine and Genie both hugged her as they said their farewells. At her request, Genie summoned up a large bag of the Earl Grey tea for her to take home - Iago shouted a parting, "Bring some pomegranates with ya next time!" which Sadira supposed to be heartfelt – and Jasmine escorted her to the doors. Both women hugged once more and made promises to meet again as soon as possible once Aladdin returned. Sadira waved from the gates and started her stroll down the streets leaving the grandeur of the palace behind her.

It was much easier to maneuver now that most of the citizens had returned home to their beds. The merchants were still busy dealing with the late shoppers and packing up their wares as the torches which lined the sides of the main street were lit one by one, adding to the red-gold glow of the setting sun. A stray apple rolled out from a fruit vendors stall as she passed; she rolled it up onto her foot and kicked it up into her hand before the merchant noticed feeling only a brief twinge of guilt for her crime. _Old habits die hard,_ she mused as she bit into the fruit, savoring the taste and soothed her conscience easily. The vendor was well known for his ruthlessness towards thieves after all; she'd leave a few extra coins for him when she had the funds to shop respectably again.

Despite what she'd told Jasmine and the others, Sadira continued on past the entrance to the Witches Sanctuary and towards the outer gates of the city. She felt a little guilty, although she hadn't lied to them _per se_ – she _was_ tired and looking forward to a good night's sleep – but for now, she felt it was best that she skimmed over her usual evening activities. At least until she lived down that 'dragon-slayer' incident.

She slipped by the border patrols easily, with the skill of one who ducked the guards on a regular basis, and dashed out into the open desert. It was a simple thing for her to sprint over the shifting sand dunes where any one else would have sank in and struggled against it; just one of the advantages of being a Witch of the Sand in a desert Kingdom.

Sadira stopped after a few minutes and looked back at Agrabah: she could still make out the palace gleaming in the sunlight and the vague outline of the common households. This was far enough, she decided, and set down her satchel and tea carefully on top of a small rock formation. She allowed herself a moment to bask in the warmth of the slowly sinking desert sun before she breathed meditatively and raised her arms, calling forth her powers.

At first nothing happened, then little by little, the sand at her feet began to shift and swirl, dancing around her body at will. Sadira felt the familiar rush of adrenaline course through her body, the sensation of being surrounded by her element making her feel powerful, confident and almost at one with the desert itself. She exhaled deeply and let her arms drop, feeling rather than seeing the sand drop drastically to the ground again. Her control had not been broken and Sadira smiled.

It had taken her months to master this level of control and she was ridiculously proud of her accomplishment. It was nothing compared to the mastery the Sand Sisters – Razili, Faria, and Shekata, she recalled with a touch of distaste – but considering her background and the notable lack of any knowledgeable instructor here or _anywhere_ else, Sadira believed she had earned a certain degree of pride for all she had done. Her experience with the ancient Sand Witches had only increased Sadira's desire to learn as much as she could about the ways of the sand rather than hinder it, and the former street-rat had practiced hard to get this far.

Still concentrating, the sand witch knelt down and formed a miniature sand dune looming just over her head. Moving her arms back and forth as she made the small mound follow the movements, swaying back and forth like a dance. One day, she would be competent enough to move the real thing, and become a force to be reckoned with. She avoided mentioning her late afternoon practice sessions to the others – it was still a slightly tender issue after all the times she had attempted to use those same powers in less _friendly_ ways – but Sadira was determined to become a powerful (and capable) sorceress. Agrabah had many enemies and the kingdom was constantly under siege.

Aladdin and Genie were a formidable force and the main reason most of these enemies had been foiled, but there had been close calls; too many to count. Agrabah was her home, Aladdin and the others were her friends, and Sadira refused to sit idly by when, with enough training, she could become a powerful defender of the city. Sadira smiled to herself. She was already far more capable than she had ever been before, which meant Agrabah was safer than ever.

And if it got her some healthy respect from the suspicious merchants and guardsmen, well, she certainly wouldn't complain.

The dune split down the centre and the pieces hovered around her like suspended ribbons of sand. At her command they connected and stretched, and with a sharp gesture she sent it flying threw the air like a weapon. It crashed into a tall sandbank and sent a cloud of dust into the air. Sadira ensnared it and condensed it into another long ribbon of sand, dancing around with it with the giddiness of a young girl. Out here she was powerful, she was obeyed; she was Master of the Ancient Secrets of the Sand and most of all she was free.

She dug in her heels and stopped her spinning, eyes finding a target in the small rock formations that jutted out from the blanket of the desert. The scrolls told her of the legendary might of the Ancient Witches: Tamers of the Seven Deserts, Masters of the Secrets of the Sands – able to call sandstorms to their aid and carve boulders in two with their element. She wanted to try that now. She would smash that boulder into pieces.

Sadira felt that rush of power; the same rush she'd experienced when she'd first created a living creature from the sands, when she'd cast her first spell, and when she'd danced in tandem with the waves of sand as she called forth her power for the first time – not the amulet's power, _her_ power, the magic that was purely hers and hers alone – and called for the sand to become as hard as stone. She'd read the scrolls a hundred times; it couldn't be that difficult. She moved forward, giving the sand an additional forward momentum as she swung her arms fiercely towards her target.

She was so engrossed in her experiment that she nearly stepped on the sand worm that suddenly popped its head out from the sand, not two inches from her foot.

"HEY! Down here, little Miss Sand Witch!" The creature seemed completely oblivious or completely uninterested towards her concentration. Its cry was so sudden that Sadira lost both her focus and her footing, causing the hard stretch of sand to dissolve uselessly onto the ground and Sadira to topple over forewords in a heap.

She groaned and pushed herself up, coughing up sand before she flipped herself onto her back. She lay there, bemoaning her failure and the hideous unfairness that was the constant company of the sand worms. The worm crawled up to her, still demanding her attention, and raised its voice thinking she hadn't heard it before. Upset and embarrassed, Sadira roughly grabbed the worm and sat up, holding it up to her face, her glare accusing. "What is it _now_?" If it was anything along the lines of 'well you were gone for so long…' she was going to squash the little thing.

The worm squirmed in her hold, "Hey, it's not _my_ fault your balance stinks!" It whined, ignoring her deadly expression. "If you stuck around the sanctuary like you're _supposed to_ then maybe you'd have learned better, but _NO_, you have to go running off at all hours of the day to go shopping or lazing off with your _friends_, or - " Sadira squeezed her hand tighter and cut off the tirade before her ears began to bleed.

She released her fist – not without some effort - and let the worm rest on the palm of her hand, "The point of this being?"

The little worm cocked its head/segment/whatever to the side, confused, before it seemed to remember its own point. "Oh, right, that," Sadira rolled her eyes, "well I just thought you should know about those weird things in the sand."

"… What weird things?" Sadira asked cautiously, almost afraid to find out.

The worm shrugged, "Yeah, there are these weird, smelly things in the sand. They're on their way here actually. Just thought you should know. I would have told you earlier, but you were in such a hurry to leave you didn't let me -"

"Wait! Can't you be more specific than that?"

"Huh?"

"Can't you tell me more about these things?"

"What things?"

The sand witch groaned and slapped a hand to her face. The worms were simply useless. "The things in the sand!"

"Oh, those? What more do you need?"

The sand witch glared at the worm again, "I think I need a little more to go on than 'weird', 'smelly', and 'on their way here'." The realization dawned on her as though someone had lit a lamp inside her head. "Here? They're coming here?"

"Yeah," bored now, the worm dropped off her palm and began crawling towards the hole he'd appeared from, "whatever, I'm sure it's nothing much. Only reason I'm telling you is because the old hags always wanted know when something was coming towards their city so-" Sadira swooped down like a hawk and grabbed the creature before it could disappear again. "Hey! Hey! Easy there, grabby!"

Sadira brought it up to eye level, dangling it from between her index finger and thumb. "Come on!" She insisted, "I need to know more about these things, and you're not leaving until I know what we're dealing with."

Then, without warning, the desert opened at her feet and a large hand sprang from the sands to imprison her ankle in an iron grip. Sadira shrieked and dropped the worm as the hand was followed by an arm, and then a head, then a body. Blue skin, deathly cold to the touch and smelling of rot; it had the form of a human but nothing more. It wore the tattered garments of a guard, its limbs were stick thin yet powerful enough to hold her in place without effort. The eyes were set wide on a hollowed face, tinted a demonic yellow, and in its other hand, it held a sword, sharp and gleaming in the sunset. It held her down as it dragged itself completely from the sands; Sadira couldn't move for terror.

"Well," the sand worm commented nonchalant beside her head, "that's it," then it dove into the sand as the creature raised its blade to attack.

Sadira moved this time, casting a column of sand at the creature that lifted it up and away from her, sending it careening towards the boulder she'd tried to smash not ten minutes before. She never thought she'd be more grateful for her own failure until she saw the hideous thing smash against the solid stone with force enough to crack it.

However her celebration was short lived when she saw the hand was still attached to her ankle. She ripped it away from her, screaming in disgust when it continued to writhe and wriggle even when separated from its host. Sadira scrambled to her feet when she saw the rest of the creature pick itself up and readjust itself with a sickening crack of bone. It moved forward to collect its missing hand and then set its yellow eyes on her, raising the sword to attack.

"What on earth…" the sand witch had no time to think past that before the creature was upon her again. She barely dodged the sword in time to stop it from cleaving off her head, moving with all the swiftness and agility she had learned in her days as a street urchin. The creature was ugly, and looked as though it was death warmed over, but it was fast, too fast for comfort. The witch sidestepped another strike and managed to strike its fist knocking the blade out if its grip before it pounced and pinned her to the ground. The smell of death and decay was overpowering this close to the creature. Sadira felt her stomach churn and fought to keep the contents down as she wrestled with her assailant. She found purchase on the ground at last and kicked her feet against its midsection to push it away from her momentarily.

She was on her feet before the creature this time. "I'm ready for you now." She declared, sounding anything but convinced, before she sent a wave of sand towards her attacker. It knocked it off balance and gave her time to collect enough sand to form handcuffs around its bony wrists. Magically enhanced, not even Genie could break free of them, and Sadira felt a small piece of her courage return to her as she watched the creature struggle against the shackles. Then it stepped on the cuffs, yanking the chains and its own arms off in the process. The chains disintegrated, having lost their use and the creature reattached itself into a terrifying whole. Sadira could have sworn it sneered at her as it moved to come at her again.

"How do you stop this thing?!" She cried in frustration, fear snaking inside the pit of her belly and coiling around her stomach like a snake. She was already exhausted, and it was clear her powers were useless to contain it. Her attacker was completely unshaken and advancing quickly. Her rat's instincts were screaming at her to run_, _but where would she run to? She'd be dead within minutes if she didn't think of something soon.

A voice at her feet called out; the sand worm poked its head out of the sands, "Slice it up!"

Sadira looked at it, incredulous, "**What**?!" The creature seized his chance and lunged at her when she was distracted. They rolled, tumbling head over heels before she managed to kick and scratch her way free again. She dashed away, desperate to put a semblance of distance between them. She was panting hard and knelling on the ground to support her weight where her opponent looked completely unchanged. She wouldn't last much longer.

The worm reappeared by her head, calling insistently, "Slice it to pieces! It's useless if it's not all put together right! Use your magic you stupid girl!"

Sadira nodded and jumped back to avoid getting pinned again. She stood up tall and called the sand to her again, twisting it around her like a cobra. The creature lunged and she acted on instinct, sending a thin bolt of sand, curved and sharpened like a blade, flying towards it. The wave caught its arm and separated it from the shoulder as though it had been held together by poor stitching – frankly, it was a distinct possibility. A few more of the same strikes and the creature lay in pieces moving and twitching pitifully on their own.

Sadira let the rest of the sand drop around her as she collapsed with a heaving sigh. "Thank Allah," she whispered, breathing heavily as she fought to slow the pounding of her heart.

The sand worm reappeared again at her feet and nodded its head at the mess of limbs before them. "Well, that wasn't so terrible, now was it?"

The sand witch glared at the worm and debated whether or not she was too tired to squash it. Deciding against it the girl picked the worm up again, ignoring its protests, and cautiously began to approach the haphazard remains of the creature. A severed foot twitched beside her. Sadira bit her tongue to keep from screaming. There was no blood, and the creature didn't look to be in any sort of pain (although it was hard to tell for certain) despite having its various part strewn about the desert floor.

"What… is this thing?" She held up the worm so it could see more clearly, refusing to move any closer.

The worm wriggled in her grip, "Beats me. _I've_ never seen anything like this before."

"A lot of help _you_ are," the sand witch prodded at one of the severed hands with her foot, "at least it's down, for now." Sadira said, then jumped when the hand began to claw its way towards her. She squeaked and kicked it, feeling only marginally better as it flew over the rocks. She eyed the remaining pieces warily, "Well, maybe Genie will know what it is… or at least how to get rid of it."

"I hope he's better at this than you are," the worm continued to try and wriggle away from her, "you could barely take down one. How're you gonna handle the rest of 'em?"

Sadira rounded on the sand worm, ready to toss it as far as she could throw until something registered in her mind. She paled, "The… rest of them?"

With a low rumble, and a series of violent quakes, the desert opened up around them. The rotting demons dragged themselves out of the sands one by one, rising like the living dead. The sand beneath her feet trembled; the witch stumbled back as another creature rose eerily from the ground at her feet and joined the growing mass. They were outnumbered.

The sand worm wriggled free from Sadira's grasp and dove for the ground. "**Run**, stupid!"

She didn't need to be told twice.

The sand witch turned and sprinted towards the city walls. Her lungs protested almost immediately, her throat burning with each breath; she was still exhausted from the strain of the first attack. Sadira ignored it. She had to put as much distance as possible between her and the horde at her heels. She'd barely gotten three feet when her path was blocked. Six more of the creatures emerged, their blades already waiting to slice her to pieces. She skidded to a stop, toppling backwards just to avoid their merciless swords and scrambled backwards frantically before she remembered the army to her back.

She pushed herself to her feet. Her eyes scanned the creatures as both sides closed in on her like a gruesome curtain. There was no escape. Her back hit solid stone. Sadira pressed her body against the boulder, as the demons slowly advanced on her. She was surrounded.

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Kara's notes: _Yeeeeaaaaah_...... remember when I said something about regular updates? Turns out that's definitely not going to happen. For now the plan is simply to update as often as I can.

Anyway, first off I want to thank **Cantare** and **Carrie88** for reviewing. I appreciate you both taking the time to tell me what you thought and for your kind words. Thanks so much! 3

Secondly, for this chapter, I'd like to ask a few questions for reviewers to address if they could:

_1. Sadira's a relatively underplayed and minor character, how was the portrayal of her as a main character?_

_2. The interaction between Sadira and the gang - was it believable? Anything I should change or take into account?_

_3. How was the battle scene? Sadira's never encountered one of these 'creatures' - although I'm pretty sure it's obvious what it is - was her reaction realistic?_

_4. The chapter as a whole. Was it too slow-paced? A good length? General opinions so far?_

Any comments or constructive critisms are always welcome. And I appologise in advance to **Cantare** for stealing her authors format.

* * *

More reviews mean a more creative writer. Until next time. Thanks for reading! ^_^


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